<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Powerless by DTKokoro</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25171825">Powerless</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DTKokoro/pseuds/DTKokoro'>DTKokoro</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>In the Heights - Miranda/Hudes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:09:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,260</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25171825</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DTKokoro/pseuds/DTKokoro</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete and Sonny hiding in a bathroom, while vandals trash the shop</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Graffiti Pete/Sonny</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Powerless</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So I dug this out of my LJ back in 2009. </p><p>Apparently, Lin-Manuel Miranda Tweeted in 2011 that Sonny and his trouble-making friend, Graffiti Pete, were originally supposed to share their first kiss during 'Blackout'.</p><p>So in honor of the movie coming out here it is.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When the brick flew through the window, Pete knew it was too late. He grabbed Sonny’s hand and half pulled, half dragged him into the bathroom. Slamming the door shut, he presses his full weight on to it, as he digs into his bag. He pulls out his good brush, the one he uses for the fine details, and wedges it in to the lock, twisting and then breaking it off.</p><p>Sweat burns is eyes, as he tries to focus on the shape of Sonny. He’s sitting on the floor, back to a wall. It’s so fucking dark.</p><p>“Sonny,” his voice comes out harsh, he swallows and tries to keep his panic out of his voice. “Sonny, are you okay?”</p><p>A shaky breath, “Yeah.” And then a wince.</p><p>“You hurt?” Those fucking bastards. Its not like there’s anything of value in the shop.</p><p>“My arm.”</p><p>“Fuck, Sonny,” Pete moves to Sonny, and crouches next to him. “Let me see.”</p><p>“How? We’re powerless remember?” He then laughs; the sound comes out desperate and humorless. “Yeah powerless, in more ways than one.”</p><p>“Hold on.” Pete pulls his bag and starts rummaging around in it, finally his fingers touch wax. He pulls out a candle, its heavy in his hand. Taking out his lighter, he flicks it a few times over the wick, until it catches.</p><p>The candle gives off enough light, that Pete can clearly see Sonny. He’s holding his left arm in front of him. Droplets of sweat, trickle down his temples.</p><p>“You care candles in your pack?”</p><p>“Nah,” he twists the candle so Sonny could see the figure on the side, “my grandma gave it to me, its Saint Catherine, suppose to watch over artists.”</p><p>“Well, if ever you need a patron saint...”</p><p>“Yeah, let me see your arm.” Pete doesn’t wait for a reply, just reaches over and with gentle hands inspects Sonny’s arm. Shards of glass reflect the candlelight, making the arm look like its on fire.</p><p>“Shit, Sonny. Hold still.” Pete slowly pulls the shards out, blood welds up, and spills from the wounds. Minutes pass as he thoroughly examines the arm. Once satisfied he stands up and tries to turn the sink on. The water gurgles and then stops. “Fuck, we don’t have any water.”</p><p>“It’s fine.”</p><p>Pete moved back to his spot, and lifts Sonny’s arm. “Pete,” Sonny’s could feel his heart speed up. And then Pete’s tongue was on the arm. Licking the cuts.</p><p>“Pete,” Sonny shudders, this shouldn’t feel this good.</p><p>Pete looked up through his lashes at Sonny, the candlelight makes his face glow. “You don’t want an infection.” His voice is gruff. And all Sonny can do is nod. Sonny rests his head against the wall, and for a moment, they aren’t in a bathroom, hiding from vandals, they’re in Sonny’s room. And Pete wouldn’t just be licking his arm. No, he’d start there and work his way up, to his neck. Licking and sucking, using Sonny’s body like a canvas. Tracing patterns with his tongue, teeth leaving markings. Then they’d be kissing. Pete’s tongue would press into his mouth, and his body would hold Sonny down. Sonny’s cock would press into Pete’s thigh and then Pete would move, teasing nipples pointed from the pleasure, and then down, and his tongue would flick out over Sonny’s cock—</p><p>“Oh, shit.” Sonny groans, cumming in his chinos, and jerking back to reality.</p><p>“Sonny, you okay?” Pete had stopped licking him and was wrapping his shirt around Sonny’s arm.</p><p>“Yeah,” Sonny gulps, and he tries to subtlety glance at the front of his chinos. But he can’t see anything, “‘M fine.”</p><p>And then they were staring at each other. Holy Shit, could this be happening. And Pete licks his lips, leans forward, and something hits the door hard. Pete’s head swings around, as the pounding on the door increases.</p><p>He scrambles to his feet; eyes scanning the room for a weapon. Nothing. But there is a window, maybe seven or eight feet above. It’s small, but Sonny could fit through it. Pete reaches up, grasping the ancient handle, the muscles in his arm strains, until finally the window opens with a painful screech.</p><p>“Come on,” He yanks Sonny up, making sure to grab the good arm. Bending down, he wraps his arms around Sonny’s legs and boosts him up to the window. Sonny’s fingers grip the windowsill and hoists himself up, gritting his teeth at the pain that flashes up his arm, first one leg, out then the other, and jumps.</p><p>Pete closes his eyes. Thank God, Sonny’s safe. He turns back to the door, and braces himself. There’s no way he could get out that window, he might be able to reach the window, but there’s no way he could pull himself up, to be able to jump. And the thought of going head first into cement isn’t appealing.</p><p>But then, Sonny’s at the window, offering his hand, “Pete.” There’s a pled in his voice. Pete blows out his candle and tosses it into his bag. Backing up to the door, Pete runs, and leaps at the window, one arm making it through the window, he slips back, gravity is such a bitch. But then Sonny’s there, grabbing his arm and pulling. His legs make it through the window, just as the vandals burst in. He lands hard on the dumpster, next to Sonny.</p><p>“Quick thinking,” he tells Sonny, knocking on the dumpster.</p><p>Sonny grins, and Pete’s pulse quickens, “Not just a pretty face.”</p><p>“Not at all.”</p><p>They climb down, Sonny stumbles, Pete catches him. “You okay?”</p><p>“Yeah, I am.” And then Sonny rises up on tiptoes and kisses Pete. His arms move around Pete’s neck, and his tongue licks into Pete’s mouth. He tastes of sweat and Sonny’s blood. Pete’s arms circle Sonny’s waist, lifting him up, closer and closer. Their bodies pressed together under the stars as the fireworks light up the night sky.</p><p>“God, Sonny,” Pete breathes into his neck.</p><p>“I should go,” Sonny whispers, fingers trailing down Pete’s arm. “I need to find Usnavi.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Pete leans down and kisses Sonny again, then squeezes his hand. “See you tomorrow?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Sonny moves away, walking down the alley. And then stops and runs back to Pete. He cups Pete’s neck and kisses him urgently. They spin, and his back hits the wall, and Pete’s tongue, teeth, and fingers are everywhere. Licking his neck, and sucking the skin. A hand on his ass, squeezing, the thumb stroking the curve, where his shirt had written up. He can feel Pete’s cock, hard and hot, pressings against him. His own cock is hard in his damp boxers, and he rubs it against Pete’s thigh.</p><p>Pete leans his head on Sonny’s shoulder, and pants, “You should go.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>He kisses him again.</p><p>“For real.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“I just, please, Pete, this isn’t just for tonight?”</p><p>Pete cupped Sonny’s head in his palms. “Fuck no. Never.” And kisses him.</p><p>Pete: Sonny,<br/>
In case you didn’t know<br/>
I am completely<br/>
Powerless around you</p><p>It’s the way you move<br/>
The way you smile<br/>
God you drive me wild.</p><p>All you have to do<br/>
Is flash me a smile<br/>
Then I’m on fire</p><p>And I am powerless<br/>
Powerless<br/>
Around you</p><p>I would do anything<br/>
Anything, and I mean anything<br/>
For you.</p><p>Because I’m powerless<br/>
And I’ve always been<br/>
And always will be<br/>
Powerless<br/>
Around you.</p><p>Pete bends down to softly kiss Sonny’s upturned mouth, arms embracing him. Sonny nuzzles Pete’s neck, and whispers, “I’m powerless around you too.”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>